CHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINA!
by Stalin's Inner Child
Summary: Don't ask. Just...don't.


Ashley: Yes, another product of too many hours of Final Fantasy followed by 2 gallons of over sugared kool-aid and a special on the History channel about *surprise surprise* Dubya Dubya 2! Don't ask why you needed to know how this piece of crud came into existance, in fact, Why am I explaining my self to you at all? Why? Because your opinion matters. I love you all so much. Yes, you! Please don't leave! Ple-e-ease! ::grabs your ankles so you can not get away and babbles about toes:::  
  
Soso: Ashley, don't make me borrow more mysterious gas from Pooty Poot. Let go of the nice readers legs.  
  
Ashley: But...they're so smooth and pretty ^_^.   
  
Soso: -_-;;I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this..... ::Hands readers a gas mask::  
  
Ashley: Agh, okay, okay, I'll stop. But only if you let me drink that Lysol Lemon-y fresh icecream float hiding in the back of the freezer.  
  
Soso: You mean the one that growls about satan when you get near it?  
  
Ashley: Mmyep.  
  
Soso: Go ahead. Maybe we'll luck out and you'll get food poisining. Anyways, hope you enjoy the story. Oh, and we don't own Invader Zim. I think...  
~~~~~~.  
The camera pans into the school. We travel through the halls, via 1st person, until reaching Ms. Bitters classroom  
It's a beautiful day in the world of Invader Zim. Well, at least as pretty as an over-crowded, under funded, uberly nasty smelling public school can get. Dib sits at his desk glaring at Zim. Zim does the same. Meaning he is glaring at Dib, because you can't very well glare at yourself. Well, Zim's not human so I suppose maybe he could be able to glare at himself. The point is moot though, because, as previously stated, he is currently glaring at Dib.  
  
Behind Zim Zita is sitting at her desk, knitting. Why? Because her socks got eaten by a dog carrying a pig as she was heading to school. She need socks so she can go sock skating later with her comrades in the cafeteria. Also, they will be used as gags for hostages in the upcoming jihad Zita and her buds are going on tomorrow night. THE INFIDELIC PENQUINS WILL SUFFER!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay...so maybe not. I'm not really sure, do I look like friggin Mrs. Cleo? Maybe she just likes knitting!  
  
Oh, and that brings us to who is telling this story. Hi, I'm Narrator Ashley, Filthy stinkin' tyrant of this little fic of dankyiful uber-doom. Yes, UBER! Many other fics claim the doom, but do they deliver it UBERLY? With 20% more doom and 5% percent more dank, with only 50% percent of the calories!  
  
Adi:(a short, cute blue eyed little boy who is in the sound booth with me) You're making no sense Ashley. Just tell the damn story and stop rambling.  
Quiet young one before I kill you with a pringle. Anywonka, Ms. Bitters slinks into the classroom like a snake made of shadows or shadows in the form of a snake. Whatever.  
  
Adi:(still attempting to absorb the comment about the 'tato chip)....what?  
  
OH! You're annoying Adi! That's it, your going into the story so you can only talk when I want you too!  
  
Adi: Wait! No! (while being dragged into the story by Crabbe and Goyle, who I rented off of everyones favorite Hogwarts NeoNazi, Draco Malfoy, to serve as lackies) You can't do this! I belong to a UNION! I'LL SEE YOUR ASS IN COURT!! And I'll win despite you damnable artist freedom!  
  
Would you mind?  
  
(Crabbe and Goyle hit Adi over the head, shutting him up and knocking him out. They leave the sound booth and I shuffle my papers. I cough and continue)  
  
Ms. Bitters: Now class, guess what we'll be doing today?  
  
Silence coats the room. Z&D continued their staring contest. Zita's knitting needles click. Aki (the short black girl with red hair that sits between Z&D) reads the latest volume of Fushigi Yuugi, oblivious to the hostilities and tension filling the air. Adi fumes at his desk moodily, upset over being dragged into this awful fic)  
  
Ms.Bitters: (continuing despite the classes obvious lack of interest) That'ssss right, we're going to go on a [cringes]field trip.   
  
Everyhead in the class looks up, excited and anxious, wondering what the catch is. Even Dib and Zim break from passionately looking into each other eyes to glance at the teacher. The passion being hate, of course!   
  
Dib: Really? [suspicious glare] Your not the real Ms. Bitters are you?  
  
Ms. Bitters: No, in fact, I'm Ms. Bitters father....  
A swell of organ music fills the air heavily. Every ear is twitching, eager to hear what will be said next. The shadows get longer, there is a pause when the violions squel and lightening crashes.  
  
Ms.Bitters:... bob.  
  
Dib: Bob Bitters?   
  
Aki:[puts down book] Wow, you look a lot like you daughter.   
  
Zita:[puts down needles] You even have the facial hair! And the saggy boobies too!  
  
By this point Bob is tired of being ragged on by mere mortal children so he presses the button and all but 5 desks fall into the floor. Flames jumps from the gaping holes in the ground, followed by a choir of youthful screams of agony. The remaining students, Zim, Dib, Aki, Zita and Adi just stare at were their comrades used to be with silent shock. Well, except for Adi, cause he's busy trying to pry open a window. Bob Bitters points at him and he magically flies back to his desk.  
  
Bob: . We're going to go on that field trip okay? And we're going to have fun or else you get to meet Mr. Killdoom  
  
Adi:(dryly) Who's that? Your gay lover?  
  
Mr. Bitters gives Adi a look, the look of cabbage, and Adi shifts unconfortably.  
  
Bob: Yes. Now class-  
Dib: Wait a minute, if your Ms. Bitter father you must be like, a bajillion years old. How can you even have a lover?  
  
Aki: Aw Dib, everyone needs love!  
  
Zita: Aren't we supposed to be going on a field trip, this is like, soooooo boring!  
  
Bob: Ah yes. We will be going to the 24-7 down the street. It will be witnessing Economy in action.  
  
Dib: We're going to a gas station?  
  
Bob: YES! Must you always question me you spikey haired little punk?  
  
Dib: I question everything.  
  
Zim: Foolish humans who know nothing do that in an pitiful attempt to fill their brainmeats with knowledge.  
  
Dib: I do too know stuff!  
  
Zim: What kind of stuff?  
  
Dib: Um..  
  
Dib thinks for a few moments about what exactly he knows. He grabs a pencil sharpener off the desk and holds it in the air triumphetly.  
  
Dib: I KNOW THAT THIS VERY PENCIL SHARPERNER WAS MADE IN CHIIIIIIIIIIINA!  
  
Zita: [rolls eyes] Pffffaw, like anyone believes in China.  
  
Suddenly a little boy from Bejing appears.  
  
Boy: I believe in China.  
  
Zita: You don't exist.  
  
Boy: {while disingrating into billions of tiny particals] Aw poo.  
Meanwhile Zita climbs onto her desk. The room darkens and an inexclipible wind blows through.  
  
Zita: As a matter of fact, none of us do. In reality, this city was destroyed totally in a war with Bevelle, and all that is left is memories and dreams. We are nothing but dreams. None of us are real, and the moment the Fayth stop dreaming we will all dissa- 


End file.
